“Passion is always a mystery and unaccountable, and unfortunately there is no doubt that life does not spare its purest children; often it is just the most deserving people who cannot help loving those that destroy them.”

Each man’s life represents a road toward himself.

To achieve the possible, we must attempt the impossible again and again.

If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn’t part of ourselves doesn’t disturb us.

I live in my dreams — that’s what you sense. Other people live in dreams, but not in their own. That’s the difference.

Within you there is a stillness and sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself.

When dealing with the insane, the best method is to pretend to be sane.

If time is not real, then the dividing line between this world and eternity, between suffering and bliss, between good and evil, is also an illusion.

Every phenomenon on earth is symbolic, and each symbol is an open gate through which the soul, if it is ready, can enter into the inner part of the world, where you and I and day and night are all one.

Chaos demands to be recognized and experienced before letting itself be converted into a new order.

We are not going in circles, we are going upwards. The path is a spiral; we have already climbed many steps.

Wisdom is nothing but a preparation of the soul, a capacity, a secret art of thinking, feeling and breathing thoughts of unity at every moment of life.

People with courage and character always seem sinister to the rest.

What could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.

Love must neither beg nor demand. Love must be strong enough to find certainty within itself. It then cease to be moved and becomes the mover.

Whoever wants music instead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative work instead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no home in this trivial world of ours.

I began to understand that suffering and disappointments and melancholy are there not to vex us or cheapen us or deprive us of our dignity but to mature and transfigure us.

But darling, losing you was better than losing me.

Love is a serious mental disease.

Things never happen the same way twice.

Sometimes it’s flattering when people copy you, but sometimes it gets to a breaking point.

Books break the shackles of time, proof that humans can work magic.

Sad thing is, you can still love someone and be wrong for them.

It is so hard to leave, until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.

My life used to be full of everything. Now if you aren’t with me I haven’t a thing in the world.